


Home to Hobbiton

by TheRoadAhead



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Returning Home, after the war of the ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:24:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoadAhead/pseuds/TheRoadAhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war of the Ring, the four Hobbits return home to the Shire. Pippin reflects on how things have changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home to Hobbiton

It was strange to be back in the Shire after so long away from home. Nothing had changed. Everything was different. 

The Hobbit-folk still carried on about their daily lives, unconcerned by the comings and goings of the outside world. Farmer Maggot still closely guarded his crop, the small population could still be found passing their nights with a tankard in the Green Dragon, and the sound of children’s laughter still rang out across the hills and dales, their parent’s voices calling them now and anon. 

Adventure of any kind was still looked down on, frowned at. In that regard, nothing had changed. The Shire-folk now turned their disappointed looks upon the four newly returned members of the Fellowship, the way they one had on Bilbo. They could not understand why anyone would go looking for excitement – would walk into trouble, particularly the kind that did not concern them. What they failed to realise was that sooner or later outside affairs would indeed concern their secluded community. Pippin wondered if they even knew the danger they – along with all the free peoples of Middle-Earth – had been threatened by. Had the encroaching darkness reached the serene fields of the Halflings? Did they have any inking that their fate had been all but sealed in death and destruction?

Could they possibly know that the four they now judged unruly were those who had fought and sacrificed so much to ensure the continued lives of all those who would scorn them – that the Shire-folk were only safe and unhindered by the darkness because of their deeds through perils untold?

It was these perils that had indeed changed everything for the four heroes. The trials and tribulations they had faced would have broken greater men; fierce warriors would not have been judged for cowering before that which the four Halflings had run towards, valour in their brave hearts. They may have been small in stature but in courage they outstripped all of those around them – their loyalty second to none. 

Pippin himself had faced more than he ever thought possible. He had left home ignorant of the world outside the borders of the Shire, unknowing of the dangers lying in wait on the winding road. He had been innocent of those things that would likely get him and others killed. Indeed, his foolish actions had sometimes placed the Fellowship in the path of danger, arguably none more so than in the Mines of Moria. 

Losing Gandalf to rock and flame had provided a sharp, bitter lesson for the inquisitive Hobbit and he had struggled with the grief and guilt, oft blaming himself.   
The foolish temptation to look in the Palantir against Gandalf’s orders had almost brought about the destruction of Middle-Earth itself. He had been extremely lucky – or simply too loyal of heart – to not reveal their secrets directly to the enemy, even while putting himself in great danger. 

He had been terrified at his self-inflicted separation from Merry, whom he had always been with. Merry had always watched out for him, which Pippin had tried to do in return although with less success. The young Hobbit did not know what he would do without his brother in all but blood. They had never been apart for such a length of time as they were then.

It could easily have broken Pippin but it did not. With a formidable strength born of necessity and with thoughts of his friends to succour him, he had faced what the path before him had dictated to him. He had proven himself over and over the loyal and unbending friend he was, saving lives in battle, pre-empting the death of many more by lighting the beacons that called the Rohirrim to Gondor’s aid. 

His time spent sundered from his friends was the making of him; that was undeniable. However, he had never been happier than when he had been reunited with Merry and his friends. When Frodo finally awoke in the Houses of Healing in Minis Tirith, the ring finally destroyed and the remaining members of the Fellowship gathered in one room, a new peace had washed over Pippin that brought a small but genuine smile to his face, something that had been all too rare in recent months.

Now, back in the Green Dragon, on an evening similar to any of the hundreds that had passé before, Pippin knew what had changed. He no longer knew the innocence he had once been shrouded in. His perception of the world had been irrevocably changed and things would never go back to exactly how they used to be.

In a strange way, Pippin thought, he was glad of that which he had learnt. Now, if only he could introduce the concept of pints to the Green Dragon.


End file.
